


“Giving the Enemy Another Chance at Life” or “When the Devil waits for a Debt to be Repaid”

by UnknownMusing



Series: Ruby Eyed Sword [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, The Three Musketeers (2011), Young Blades (TV)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Hermaphrodite D'Artaganan, M/M, Mpreg, Musketeers, Near Death Experience, Rochefort has some secrets yet to be revealed, Romance - slow burn, Set in certain time era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-05-18 22:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14861066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownMusing/pseuds/UnknownMusing
Summary: A "What if" Rochefort survived story and if D'Artagnan had saved him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hannibalsimago](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannibalsimago/gifts), [purplesocrates](https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplesocrates/gifts), [Krey9J](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krey9J/gifts), [KatherineKrawl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatherineKrawl/gifts), [carrionofmywaywardson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrionofmywaywardson/gifts), [VintageFloof](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VintageFloof/gifts).



 

D’Artagnan – the young foolish young man – has managed to overwhelm him, while Rochefort stumble backwards slightly with blood starting to gush out from the wound that has been made by the rapier – that the young man had used – then with his own lifeblood onto the stonework, he lifts his face to look at the young man.

“ _You should’ve have apologised to my horse.”_

_“I guess…. I deserved it, young D’Artagnan.”_

He says those words – not really knowing why he does - just before he falls backwards into free space with his hand letting go off the rapier and yet, he never falls to his **_Death_** as hands suddenly grab hold of him then pull him back onto stone ground, while a hand pulls the sword out making him gasp shakily at it then he hears fabric ripping, followed by hands lifting him up so the person can wrap the strip of fabric around his wound as this causes him to grit his teeth at it.

 

“ _Young fool. Do you have any idea…what you….? gahhh!!?”_

_“Sorry…is it too tight?”_

 

“D’ARTAGNAN, WE MUST LEAVE. JUST LEAVE HIM TO DIE.”

 

These words shouted from above interrupt before he can answer, makes the young man pull away from him, propping his weakened body up against the wall and lifting his head he sees on the rooftop, standing there waiting is the rest of the **_“Musketeers”_** then the young man, gets up shouting up to the three men – three men, who once been his dearest friends – which surprises him hearing it.

 

“ATHOS…. WHAT THE HELL!!!? SO, I JUST LEAVE HIM HERE TO DIE!?”

 

“YES.”

 

He watches the young man’s face change, looking at Athos – the Leader of the them – and getting up, using the tiled roofing for support then turns fully around, heading to the rooftop door of the large Chapel and reaching it, while keeping one hand over the bandaged wound turns his face to look one more time at all them – particurly the young man – saying words to D’Artagnan.

 “Remember, young D’Artagnan, the **_Swordsman’s Debt_** cannot be taken back. We will not meet again, unless Fate changes her mind and we do then be prepared for that day.”

He says it, while pointing a gloved finger at the man and sees how blue eyes – like a swirling mass that feels like they could consider his Soul – widen at them then lowering his hand back down to his side, takes the necklace off his belt and chucks with his free hand to the young man, who catches it in mid-air.

He soon opens the chapel door with his free hand, which creaks open allowing for dust that settled on it to fall onto the top step of the stairs that lead down to the main chapel and steps into the darkness, allowing it to swallow him up as he gently closes the door behind him, not looking back at all.

Though if he had, he would have seen that the young man was trembling slightly and trying not to show to the other **_“Musketeers”_** that he had been affected by those words.

 

* * *

 

** 7 MONTHS LATER  **

** Location – The Outskirts of Gascony, Mist-Bloom Farm – D’Artagnan’s Home **

** D’Artagnan’s P.O.V: **

“ _Remember….”_

_“ **Swordsman’s Debt** …”_

_“…..unless **Fate** changes her mind and we do meet again……”_

_“….be prepared for that day.”_

I gasp shakily, rising in the bed with my chest rising and falling under the white night-shirt as early Dawn light filtering through a gap in the curtains shines onto my skin – which is fully coated in droplets of sweat – then slip out of the bed, standing up to head over to washing basin and filling it with water, cup some in my hands to splash my face.

It been seven long mouths that passed, ever since I had let Rochefort – Milady’s supposedly Bodyguard and Lover – go free and for unforeseeable reason, which I had tried to explain yet no answer came to mind when Cardinal Richelieu had asked me.

_“Why did you let him go?”_

_“I…. don’t know is the answer, Cardinal.”_

_“Athos, says you disobeyed an order he gave.”_

_“I…. It’s complicated.”_

_“Do not, if that **Traitor** is still alive get to know him. You just dig up a murky past, you will not like. Now, leave, young man as I have rather more pressing concerns to attend to.”_

I come out of the memory of it, lifting my head to look at myself in the mirror – no longer with the boyish looks; hair that had made look like a girl, now tied back Japanese style, while also shaved slightly on either side with some of my fringe falling in front of my eyes and the fact, I was no longer the same person that first joined the **_“Three Musketeers”_** then turn my gaze back to Constance, sleeping soundly in the large bed.

Nothing as woken her from her sleep at all and grabbing my clothes, that have been placed over the chair near the window begin to silently slip them back on, followed by attaching both swords to my belt – a Samurai sword and a Rapier that been sent to me by someone unknown along with a fine note, written with just the words.

  _For being rude about a Horse called Buttercup and hope you will accept these as an apologise. From a person, you owe a **Swordsman’s Debt** too. P.S. Burn after reading, you don’t want them finding out._

There was of course, no doubt in my mind that Rochefort – wherever he was at this moment – had sent me the letter, along with these gift to me, while written on the steel of the Samurai was lettering that I could not yet translate then sighing softly, go around the bed to kiss Constance on the cheek lightly.

She shifts in her sleep, but does not wake from it then heading to the door, open the bedchamber door quietly and step out onto landing closing it quietly behind me.

 

* * *

 

Buttercup, is still calmly asleep herself when I come into the stables to check on her and her adopted foal – Myer – who is only already coming up to my hip as I smile softly at the sight of it then a creaking noise in the hayloft above my head, makes me stiffen with their hairs on the back of my neck standing up slightly.

Going to the ladder, I clamber up and holding the rapier in one hand walk silently to the very back to see that someone had opened the hay door’s for when hay needed to be lifted into the barn by the pulley system. Seeing evidence in the form of fine leather whip, had been used as rope and listening quietly, after taking it down to wrap it up then step backwards, wondering who would be wanting to be in the large barn.

It is one of the dodgy wooden floorboards that makes me whirl around to lunge with the rapier at the Intruder, only for it to be blocked by another one and seeing they are using a certain kind of footwork, move my feet in certain way as both of us begun to encircle each other.

It soon becomes a silent dance, while both us – Intruder and myself – try to keep the sword’s clashing to minimum so we don’t’ disturb Buttercup and the foal – then suddenly it becomes sensual and seductive, with them taking hold of me to whirl me around as I manage to block with the samurai sword the dagger point that would have nearly pierced my left eye.

_“I thought you were taught better than that, **Gascony boy**.”_

I turn fully around in his grip when he whispers those words in my ear, surprising him and lifting my face as he is still taller than me. I only come up to his chin and find myself hugging him close to me, making him stiffen at the unexpected contact, with his hands letting go of the dagger and rapier – which thankfully land on some corn bags.

_“And…all this time, I thought… **Fate** wouldn’t make us meet again. But, I never expected this way.”_

_“You…. Could you let go of me, please, D’Artagnan?”_

Seeing what I’m doing, I let go of him and step back trying the best to compose myself,  and noticing that he looks different from the last time I saw him – but then seven months had passed since that incident and me saving his life –  noticing his hair still tied back, with a  black bow with initials sewed on it – my initials and his – and noticing  that he is not wearing that brilliant shade of red, but instead black leather, with a white cravat on his throat with a stone attached to it. I reach out to touch it gently with my fingertips.

_“Lapis lazuli. To remind me of…the colour of your eyes.”_

_“Rochefort, you do…...know that there is warrant for your arrest, followed….by…you are losing the status of what you are.”_

The Elder man, stiffens at those words and lowers his head to not look at me then sits down on the corn bags, flicking his one good eye up to me.

“Then what are you going to do about it?”

 

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Jade stalk – rough translation: Basically, what all males have between their legs.   
> Flower – A gentler description instead of pussy, cunt or vagina, basically.

 

“ _Then what are you going to do about it?”_

Rochefort, watches from where he sits on the corn bags as the young man pads back and forth quietly so he doesn’t deserve Buttercup and the tiny foal, that unknown to D’Artagnan’s knowledge had been his horse’s one, until his horse had died giving birth to her.

He sees the young man, had kepted his main gift – the samurai sword – and picking it up, unsheathes it then getting up, takes hold of the young man from behind making D’Artagnan stiffen slightly. 

“Take hold of it. Two hands. Yes, grip the handle tightly like that.” He says, smiling softly when the young man does so and sliding his hands to cover the young’s man begins to whisper in his ear what to do. 

Slowly, like the Old Master in Japan had taught him, he shows the young man to move the sword fluidly and almost like it was a dance, moving in time with every step that is made on the wooden floorboards then a move, causes D’Artagnan’s behind to brush against his groin making him give unexpected gasp at it, followed him soon bending his head down to immediately – after taking the sword out and placing it down on the corn bags – to place his lips against the young man’s neck. 

He starts to breathe heavily through his nostrils, followed sliding his hands down to fine hips and taking hold of them begins to grind his growing, bulge – covered by fine breeches - into young man’s behind, making D’Artagnan turn his face starting to grind back himself with his hand coming up to take hold of the back of Rochefort’s head. 

“Rochefort!!!.... Oh, oh…oh.” 

“Every night, while I was…. Japan, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. How…you would…. feel to touch, caress or even…kiss you, sweet D’Artagnan.” 

Moving one of his hands, he cups the young man through his breeches and going to the laces, unlaces them slowly one by one then slips it inside, cupping the young man through the inner breeches then deciding, whirls him around instead, pushing him down onto the corn bags. 

He kisses those fine lips, feeling eagerness coming from the young man, who is starting to kiss him back to explore his mouth and soon, tongues entwine followed by D’Artagnan pushing his hips into Rochefort’s hand to emphasise what he wants then pulling back, he sees the swollen lips; pupils expanded and hints that the young man is evidently aroused. 

He lifts the young man up onto his lap, sifting one of his hands through the fine locks of hair and bends his head down to the supple white neck, where he hears D’Artagnan give a breathless, hitched gasp then begins to trail his lips up and down, savouring the soft moans it causes to come from him. 

His other hand, slips the breeches off – along with the inner breeches – and cupping the young man, from behind suddenly frowns when he feels a strange wetness – like a woman’s sex – hidden behind the young man’s other sex – then pulls back to look at him, seeing how eyes lashes lower and the young man lowers his head slightly.

“It’s not easy, being born a…Hermaphrodite and knowing, one day someone…might discover it. You’re not the first, sadly to say…who found out about it. Athos, discovered and…I begged him not tell anyone else not even Porthos or Aramis then he asked for something I couldn’t give him.” 

“He wanted…to bed you. Damm…him to the very pits of Hell, for asking such a thing of you. Had we met some other way, I could have trained to avoid people like that and…maybe, I don’t know. Maybe, have a life together.” Rochefort says, feeling his throat tighten with emotion and the fact he just said that then a hand cupping his, draws him out of the haze and looks at the young man. 

“It was after I let you escape, he discovered my secret. When he asked me “Why” I said it was because my heart was already captured by another and that was you, but he thought I meant…sweet, Constance.” The young man, says in hushed voice followed by pushing him backwards he lays on his back and begins to slide the boots off, followed by the both pairs of breeches to place them near the corn bags. 

Rising back up, Rochefort turns them so he can lay down on the corn bags and managing to find some at the right angle so the young man can either sit in his lap or snuggle close to his chest then moves his hand away, using his teeth to peel of his glove as the other one has already been pulled off by the young man, who is now unlacing both pair of his breeches. 

There slid down enough, so D’Artagnan doesn’t get chafing on the inside of his thighs and pulling the younger man up slightly, so they can kiss again, he slides his hand down a fine unblemished back to where a soft hitched muffled moan sounds in the kissing, followed by him cupping the moist, wetness of the hidden lotus *flower – stroking the petals that are coated with dew that is forming from it – while the *jade stalk, beads pearls of pre-cum which dribble down it – then satisfied pulls back from the fine, cupid bow lips with strand of saliva still connecting his to them.

“This will hurt. But, the pleasure…that I will soon give you will be worth it. Ready.”

“Yes…I want you, inside me, Rochefort. I want…to feel you’re…heat. I want…. feel everything.” D’Artagnan gasps out in admission, making him kiss him again to relax the tension and slowly, taking hold of the young man’s hips, with both hands lowers him down, sliding his own jade stalk soon into tight, warmth. 

He hears a hitched gasp, followed by hands coming to rest on his chest and giving a slight grunt, he finally becomes fully sheathed inside the young man’s flower then looks up at the young man’s face, seeing the closed eyes and mouth open in ecstasy at just the feeling of being one with someone in this way. 

Rochefort, smiles softly at the sight of his soon-to-be Lover astride him, while the sunlight filtering into the hayloft makes pale unblemished skin becoming coated in a fine droplet of sweat, making him look he had been out in the rain and just stuck to his skin then he massages D’Artagnan’s hips he begins to slowly undulate his hips and down, causing the young man to ride him to be in sync, with his gentle thrusts. 

Both begin to gasp and pant, followed by him sliding his jade stalk, each time in and out of the young man’s petals – which have now begun to thoroughly produce more it – making wet, moist squelching sounds followed by skin slapping softly against skin fill the silence of the hayloft as both try to keep their Lovemaking quiet enough so they’re not heard if…Constance came looking for D’Artagnan in the stables.

It is proving difficult, with both finding it not easy to quell their passion for each-other and soon breathless moans; skin slapping more intensely against skin and harsh pants, followed by grunting begin to fill the silence of the Hayloft then a small cry comes from the younger, followed by whimpering in pleasure and ecstasy.

* * *

 

**D’Artagnan’s P.O.V:**

Rochefort, holds me afterwards, sifting his hand now through my slightly damp hair as we lie together on top of the corn bags, physically exhausted and sated.  
He kisses the top my forehead gently with his lips.

"I want you to come to Japan, with me."

I lift my head up from his chest, looking at him and rising up slightly when he says these words. Had I heard right, what he had just said to me and seeing I had, smile softly at him then look over at the samurai sword. 

"What does it mean? The words carved on the sword you gifted me?" I ask him, making him stroke my cheek lightly and nuzzle his nose against mine then rests his forehead against mine. 

_**"Annatar."** _

The word he says, soft-sounding makes me blush softly at them. I want him again, to hold me in his arms and make love again to me. Pulling my forehead back from his, I start to pick up my clothes and slip them back on, while he does the same then ties his hair back with the black bow, when he stands up the black leather jacket still undone slightly and stepping close button it up for him.

He softly smiles down at me, reaching up to stroke a strand of slightly damp hair from my forehead and tucks it gently behind my ear. I lean up to kiss him, feeling him cradle the back of my head with one gloved hand and because were so absorbed don’t sense Constance coming up the ladder to the Hayloft. 

But do hear her shocked hitched gasp, making us both pull back from each-other and begin to panic then she heads back down the ladder, making me go after her seeing she is running back to the house stumbling slightly due to seeing the sight she couldn’t deny she had just seen with her own eyes then managing to reach her, find myself falling to the ground making her thrash underneath me - tears running thickly down her cheeks – like a wild animal, scratching and clawing at me. 

I try to calm her, but it’s not working and she slaps me across the face managing to split my bottom lip in the process and scrambles up away from me starting to shout at me “WHY D’ARTAGAN!!!? WHAT MADE YOU DO THAT FILTHY THING WITH HIM!!!? HE’S WANTED MAN AND A KILLER!!! HE TRIED TO KILL Y…” only to never finish her sentence as Rochefort, who has come silently up behind her takes hold of the back of her head and whispering the words _“Forgive me, petite femme Constance.”_

He knocks her out, in certain way which will erase any memory of what had happened in the Hayloft that she had seen and lifting her up bridal style carries her into the house, while I get up following him to the doorway then stop at it, not going over the threshold.

 

* * *

 

D’Artagnan, is waiting with two horses with travelling bags attached to both of the horse’s saddles when Rochefort sorting his gloves comes back down the stairs and to the open doorway, seeing how the young man is wanting to say something only to close his mouth then taking the reins of the other horse, hauls himself up into the saddle.   
“We have to leave, D’Artagnan. Come.” He says, making the “Gascony boy” get up onto the saddle and flicking the reins slightly, moves the horse away from the Farm where the young man had been born and lived in all his life.  
  
 **(TIME SKIP)**

**D’Artagnan’s P.O.V:**

  
The makeshift fire for the camp we set up in stone alcove – made up of two large stones shaped like pinnacles leant against each-other – flickers slightly in the dark with the warm light filling the space with warmness as he holds me in his arms, between his legs.

“Tell me, _**Annatar?**_ ” He asks me, making me sigh softly that he can read me so easy and try not to think I’m worrying because of what had happened during travelling to the coast.

“Did you have to kill those …ruffians, who attacked us? There was no need to…sever the lives of them.” I reply, making him soon whirl me around in his grip so I face him and pushes me down to lay on my back with him getting over me.   
#

“D’Artagnan, you have to understand. Those ruffians were planning….to harm you, while forcing me to watch. Don’t you understand, because of your youth…they would have forced you to the ground, ripped your clothes off and spread your legs like when a whore as to spread her legs. They…would…have raped you, if I hadn’t done anything.” He says, still holding my arms with both his hands and still leaning over me to look down at me at the same-time his voice breaks with emotion.

Wetness from tears forming in his eyes, plips onto my cheeks and seeing his shoulders have started to shake bring my hands up to cradle the back of his head then pull it down, allowing him to bury his face into the crook of my neck as he rolls us so we’re both on our sides. 

His hand takes a blanket from his travelling bag, placing it over the both of us and putting both the travelling bags under our heads then he pulls his face back from the crook of my neck, slipping one hand downwards to slip it softly into the confines of my breeches making me gasp breathlessly with my head tilting backwards when he finally slips it within my inner breeches.

“Haa….Rochefort!!!?....Haaa!!” I gasp out breathlessly, starting to rock my hips into his hand feeling also wetness forming on my secret lotus flower’s petals start to gush down my thighs and he flicks his gaze to me, soon slipping down pulling my breeches – outer and inner – down.

His moist, hot mouth surrounds at the sametime he slips one hand around my hip and begins to caress my wet petals with two fingers – slipping them over the dew gushing from them. His head bobs up and down between my quivering thighs, tongue licking; sucking and swirling around my jade stalk then he slips a finger within my petals, causing me to slip my hand downwards to entangle my hand in his hair.

_I’m so close….Oh, god!!....The way he pleasures me!!! It feels like I’m burning up within myself, little flames caressing me with their wicked little tongues._

“Ro..che…fo…rt!!!........Please….in….me…In me!!!” I beg him, feeling him pull away from me and start to peel of my lower half and his own placing them to one side then hauls me up into his lap, pushing me down on his jade stalk and filling me that I start undulate my hips up and down – riding him.

A particular thrust within me, makes me whimper and cradling the back of his head with one hand to sift through his hair – which has come undone from the ribbon - feel him fall backwards softly taking control this time by moving my back and forth with his legs spread wide to accommodate me at the sametime his jade stalk slips in and out of my wet, moist petals with each gentle thrust.

Sweat is trickling both down our bodies. Rivulets’ like water droplets going down a glass pane and my dew gushing down the inside of my thighs from my hidden lotus flower at the sametime dribbling down from my jade stalk then looking down at him, bring a hand up to his eye-patch and slip it off to reveal his other eye to me.

It’s a different colour – golden, bright like the wheat’s of hay in sunlight – and moving my hips in sync with his, bend my head down to kiss him feeling him kiss me back breathlessly. Both of change position each-time to deepen it, followed by caressing each-other’s moist, hot caverns. Tongues duel in harmony, exchanging saliva or dribbling down the side of our mouths then he speeds up, causing me to writhe atop him heavily. 

Our high-pitched moans and gasps filling the small space we camped in.

“ _Ohhh, ohhh….I’m gonna….I’m gonna…cum!!?”_

I warn him between our heated kissing, making him grunt heavily and letting go of my lips brings his gaping lips to my ear, breath coming in heated, breathless pants.

_“Uhh!!…D’Artagnan, cum…for me…Cum for me, Annatar.”_

As soon he says that word to me, my back arches heavily a keening wail of pleasure and ecstasy coming from me at the intense blinding whiteness that hits finally as the pressure that been building up within me comes to earth-shattering climax. My vision whites out, blocking out all external sound except for the beating of my heart and distantly feel myself clench my thighs tightly around his waist followed by him tensing underneath me filling my womb – my inner lotus flower’s inner chamber or sanctum – with heavy rush of warmth that seems to my mind, never-ending.

I don’t won’t to stop at the moment. 

I want to suspend it just in this one moment of time between us and finally when I come back down again, moan weakly feeling so lightheaded then fall forwards into his chest, laying there with my head to one side as he comes down from his own high. 

Both our breathing laboured, sweat coating and hint of sexual desire strong in the night air indicating what has just happened between us both.  
My heart begins to slowly resume its normal pace. His the same.

 

* * *

 

Rochefort, with his heart still resuming its normal pace brings one hand up to stroke a strand of slightly damp hair from D’Artagnan’s forehead to gently tuck it behind the young man’s ear at the same-time feeling physically exhausted and sated from their intense lovemaking session they had just shared.

He goes to pull out, when a whimper and the young man clenching his thighs around his waist stops him from doing so then slipping his hands down to grip D’Artagnan’s hips moves him back and forth slowly and gently causing hands to slip upwards to grip his shoulders. Licking his lips to wet them, Rochefort continues to move within the wet, moist lotus flower petals at slow pace and resting his forehead against the young man’s soon tenses with his thighs shaking as he releases his seed into a fertile womb for the final time for tonight.

He was already drained from the intense orgasm he had experienced in their first round of lovemaking.

“Haaa….You incorrigible…minx. You’ve drained me of energy.” He gasps out labourly, making D’Artagnan nuzzle his nose playfully against his and helping the young man to slip off his softening jade stalk reaches for a large rag from the travelling bag to wipe them both clean before they go back to asleep.

 

* * *

  
**D’Artagnan’s P.O.V:**

I feel euphoric. My mind abuzz due to the hormones that have been released from last night’s tendering Lovemaking sessions between us both, while watching Rochefort adjust his saddle strap on his horse as I finish packing up the travelling bags then notice his eye-patch, laying on the ground where I had dropped it and picking it up, get up going over to him.

He turns his head, when he senses me approaching him and pulls me close to him to embrace me, causing a slight wince to appear on my features because I was still sensitive from last night making him pull back to look at me with concern.

“What’s wrong? Are you sore, down…there? I wasn’t too rough for you, was I?” He asks me, cupping both my cheeks to stroke the cheekbones lightly with his thumbs and leaning close to him, take one hand to place on my chest where my heart lays.

“No, you weren’t rough. I felt….so good last night, when you held me in your arms.” I reply, making him softly smile and pull me in for gentle kiss, which I respond to eagerly because I can never get enough of them.

His lips move against mine softly and gently, tasting them at the sametime wetness of my dew trickles down the inside of my thighs from my hidden lotus flower making me pull back to bury my face into the crook of his neck.

“I’m…I making you wet, D’Artagnan?” He whispers huskily in my ear and mewl softly in reply when one of his hand slips around my hip to cup me from behind rubbing a finger between my thighs where the wetness is starting to seep slightly through my breeches.

“You always…..make….so wet. You made…..me so wet last night, when your jade stalk was within…me. Filling me…haaa…Rochefort!!!?” I pant out, soon him feeling him rub the gloved finger over my covered moist, wet and dripping petals starting to flow with dew from behind sending tingles of fire licking the way up my thighs.

When I finally do cum, I spurt my release with gentle, soft moan into the confines of my breeches feeling it soak them from both my hidden lotus flower and my normal jade stalk then flick my gaze up to him, seeing he is smiling softly at me.

“Haaa…I love you.”

* * *

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

** D’Artagnan’s P.O.V: **

The Harbour, near the coast is not the like the one I had been to with Aramis, Athos and Porthos and more larger, with steps leading down to it in the far distance of towering half-crumbling arches from Roman times.

“Will have to be careful. There is possibility of Spy’s being among the Harbour folk.” Rochefort says, bringing his horse up alongside mine and tearing my gaze from the view look at him.

“They say you forced me to come with you if were captured. Or they would think I joined you and will place…me into….one of those dreadful places with oubliettes in the lower levels of it.” I begin to say, hearing my voice break so much I have to get off the horse trying not to think of what would happen if we were separated from each-other.

 

_Would I be put in one of them by Cardinal Richelieu?_

_What would Arthos, Porthos and Aramis think of me?_

_What would King Louie and Ann is wife think of me?_

 

His arms wrapping around my waist to pull me back against his warm chest and one hand coming up to cup my chin lightly to turn it then my stomach suddenly heaves up heavily what I had eaten before we set out to this place and he manages to turn my face so I’m sick onto the grass.

With a final heave, I bring up a shaking hand to wipe it away and yet, he does it for me by getting out a handkerchief then wipes my mouth clean for me, still holding me to him with his free hand around my waist.

Lips gently kiss my forehead, followed by him lightly stroking my cheek with back of his knuckles and splays his hand on my abdomen telling me without words.

 _“I’m….with child ain’t I_?” I whisper up to him, making him turn me to face him and tilt my chin upwards so he can see my face then nods silently in reply.

  

* * *

 

 

_I’m with child. I’m with…child._

It repeats in my head again and again.

Re-echoing and echoing, while the Dressmaker girls help me into the pregnancy corset for pregnant ladies as Rochefort stands to one side near the door of the room were in, watching with his arms crossed over his chest then the dress is placed over my head.

They slide it down carefully and gently, revealing it is an eggshell blue dress with lace ruffles on it and after smoothing it down step away to allow me to look at it fully then Rochefort walks over to me, indicating that he would like some privacy alone with me and Dressmaker girls all glide out the room like they had never been it in the first place.

“Look at me.” He says, causing me to shake my head from side to side and head to the window that looks out onto the Harbor seeing people going about their daily lives.

Sailors in the rigging of the many ships, others milling about on the deck and others taking packages down the gangplank or the other Cargo which comes in the form of Slaves chained by the ankles and wrists to stop them from escaping.

“I…..don’t want to lose you, Rochefort. I don’t….want to be separated from you while I’m bearing our…child.” I admit, hearing my voice break in the process feeling him wrap his arms around me to hold me close to him.

“You won’t. I promise you, D'Artagnan. I promise that neither of us will be separated from each-other. He says, gripping me more tightly to him and turning my face kiss him heavily as he kisses me back desperately like he was afraid if he were separated from me we would never see each-other again.

 

* * *

 

 

Something doesn't feel right when we step out into the Harbor busier now than before when I had been looking out of the large windows of the Dressmaker's shop above us.

Keeping myself close to Rochefort, I feel him pull me closer to him as we pass other people going about their daily lives and yet, I couldn't help that feel there was tension in the air about to snap. It happens so suddenly, I have no time to react at it as men in black and red uniforms appear from nowhere grabbing hold of me to pull away from Rochefort who is suddenly grabbed by large man with long blonde hair tied back.

Arms soon pinned behind his back harshly.

_"Jussac!!!!? Let...me...go!!!!"_

Snarling out the words as he soon recognizes who they are immediately and tries to get out of the large man's grip.

" _Rochefort...don't be a fool. Just come quietly and neither of you will be harmed by your actions. Dammit...Rochefort....have some sense here."_

Jussac tries to reason to him, only to give a muffled grunt when Rochefort punches him in the stomach causing the large blonde-haired man to let go of him then rushes over to me, while I try to get free from men holding me back feeling our fingertips nearly brush.

A dagger being thrown makes me call out to him only for it to be too late when I'm silenced by a glove hand to stop me from shouting a warning to him. 

He soon collapses on both knees in front of me to reveal standing some distance behind him is Athos. Lowering his hand down to his side and walks up to us both - Rochefort on his knees in front of me and me being held back by the men in black and red uniform.

Rochefort whirls around slashing at Athos with hidden dagger that has come from his sleeve that it is so fast I don't see it and it causes Athos to stumble backwards, placing a hand to his eye as I see blood starting to gush down from the fresh wound.

"An eye for eye, Athos. I told you.....I would get you back so.. _..Ackkkk!!?"_

 

He begins to say, only for Porthos to slam a clenched fist into the side of his face so hard it sends Rochefort hitting the cobbled stone with a bone-sickening thud and I start to struggle to get free of the guard's who hold me when I see Porthos suddenly go over to him then slams his boot down hard on his Rochefort. A cracking noise of bone breaking, makes me flinch tearing my gaze away from the sight and yet, I look to see he is trembling some of his fringe hanging in front of his eyes then he looks straight at me.

" _Forgive me, Annatar."_

Slowly he gets up, bringing up a pistol from his belt and cocking it pulls the trigger causing a crack of a pistol to echo in the  Harbour courtyard. Everything slows down, smoke wafting from the smoking pistol followed by Rochefort stumbling backwards until collapsing against some wooden crates knocking them over to spill their contents onto the cobbled stone as he falls the ground with a sickening thud. 

Blood begins to seep through the fine clothes he wears staining it, while his chest rises and falls heavily indicating to me the wound he had just sustained is fatal then biting down on the gloved hand manage to get free finally. I rush over to him, feeling him embrace as soon as bend down to him and placing a shaking hand to the ever-relentless gushing wound see him shake his head at me.

I tremble heavily, wrapping my arms around him and he places his lips against my ear " _It's....too late. There is nothing you can do,_   _D’Artagnan. Hnnn!!!"_ followed by another spasm of pain going through him. 

I tremble. 

I don't want to lose him. 

 


End file.
